The Red Badge of Courage
by Dryad13
Summary: What could possibly go wrong when you cram two dozen clairvoyant girls, a gang of Misfits, a handful of vampires, and an incubus prince in one penthouse apartment? As it turns out... plenty. Post-"Ride the Storm," and told from multiple points-of-view. A piece of fluff for the holidays.
1. Chapter 1

_Tap tap._

John opened one bleary eye.

 _Tap tap tap._

The bedroom was suffused with the soft, yellow light of dawn.

 _Tap. Tap._

Someone was knocking at the door.

"Someone wants you," he murmured to his companion, who was almost entirely obscured by the covers. When she didn't stir, he poked her in the calf with one foot.

"Not for me," she muttered in reply. The strawberry-blonde curls retreated further underneath the blanket.

"It's definitely not for me."

" _Sleeping_ ," she growled, voice muffled.

 _Tap tap tap tap tap._

With a long-suffering sigh, John slid out of bed and looked for his pants. They weren't on the floor. They weren't on the dresser. They weren't even on the chair in the corner.

"Fuck it," he breathed, and strode to the door stark naked. He cracked it open and stuck his face into the gap.

Rhea stared back at him with huge eyes. Her cheeks slowly turned pink.

"Yes?" John asked. Although his tone didn't quite make it to _civil_ , at least it felt short of _hostile_.

"I-I'm sorry," the acolyte stammered, casting her eyes away from his stubbled chin and bare chest. "I need Lady Cassandra."

"Right. One moment." John shut the door. He stalked back to the bed and pulled the covers off of the woman buried inside.

" _No!_ " she squealed, wrapping her arms over her face. John took a moment to admire her slender legs, her full hips… but he stopped himself before he got too distracted.

"It's Rhea. She says she needs you." He paused dramatically. "It might be an emergency."

Cassie lowered her arms and drowsy blue eyes blinked at him.

"Goddammit," she said, voice hoarse from sleep. "What _time_ is it?"

"Six fifteen," John replied, glancing at the bedside clock. It was almost time for his morning run. "You talk to Rhea, I'll make coffee. Deal?"

"Deal," she sighed, and she slowly sat up. He resumed the search for his pants. _Bathroom_ , he thought belatedly, and poked his head through the door. Jackpot. There they were, crumpled up outside of the shower, along with every other piece of clothing that he and Cassie had been wearing last night. He smiled in self-satisfaction as pulled them back on. Cassie's bathrobe was hanging on the back of the door; he grabbed it and tossed it to her on the bed.

"Thanks," she said mournfully, sliding it on. The plush pink fabric covered her from head to toe, and she tied her belt with the air of a soldier girding his loins before battle. Then she made a face at him.

"You should probably put on a shirt."

"What?" He looked down at his bare chest. "I'm just going to the kitchen."

"Tami told me, and I quote, that your 'incubus abs are driving the girls toward early puberty.'"

"You're joking," he said. Cassie just raised her eyebrows. "Bloody hell," he swore. But he went back to the bathroom and pulled on his wrinkled gray t-shirt.

"Do I pass the dress code?" he asked sourly. Cassie smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then she slapped his ass.

"Coffee!" she said, pointing to the door.

"Vixen," he muttered. As he exited the bedroom, he left the door wide open for Rhea.

"The Pythia is at your service," he told her. She mumbled something that might have been _Thank you Mage Pritkin_ before she scurried inside. John proceeded down the hallway towards the kitchen, bare feet silent on the cold marble floor. The atrium was empty and peaceful, full of golden light reflecting off of the windows and the still pool. He turned the corner and found the kitchen occupied.

Rico and Fred were sitting at the table. Fred was examining a spreadsheet on his open laptop; Rico was drinking a beer.

"Morning, hotshot," Rico said, smirking. Fred hunched his shoulders and pressed his lips into a thin line, obviously trying not to laugh. John stopped in his tracks and contemplated them for a moment. Then he continued toward the cabinets.

"Let the record show that I did not respond," he said drily, pulling out a bag of coffee beans and an electric grinder. Although John was not exactly _friends_ with Cassie's vampires, they had learned to tolerate each other over the past six months. He had never imagined himself living in a frat house of the undead; but neither had he expected to fall in love with a Pythia. There were compromises.

The loud _whirr_ of the grinder precluded any retorts. But once the coffee machine began burbling merrily, Rico started in again.

"I guess someone gave you the 'no shirt, no service' lecture," he said with a broad grin. John counted to five before answering.

"You too, then?" he asked shortly. He gazed longingly at the pitch-black liquid dripping down into the coffee pot. The elixir of life.

"Not necessary," said Rico, shrugging eloquently. "I know how to behave in front of the _ragazze_."

John shot a pointed glance at the half-finished beer in the vampire's hand.

"Is there a story here?" he said, looking back and forth between the two vampires. Fred's lips twitched suspiciously. "Fred. Out with it."

"Marco found out some of the initiates were having a contest," said the mousy vampire.

Rico's grin widened, and he leaned back in his chair.

"… what kind of contest?" John prompted. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Who could get the most Snapchats of you—topless!" Fred wheezed out the final word and finally dissolved into muffled laughter, holding his hands against his face. Rico was less subtle, letting loose a rolling belly laugh and slapping the kitchen table with one open hand. John could feel the blood drain from his face.

"What the devil is a Snapchat?" he asked, voice hoarse. The vampires just continued chortling and wiping away tears.

"I swear to all the gods that I will stake you both," John said sharply. Rico waved a hand at him, unconcerned.

"It's some stupid thing on their phones," he said breathlessly. "Tami erased it."

John gathered all the shreds of his dignity in one long, deep breath. Then he turned back around and pulled two mugs from the cupboard above him. Silently, he filled them with steaming coffee. He picked them up and left the kitchen wordlessly, refusing to look back at the two amused bodyguards.

The atrium was still quiet, although he could hear footsteps and rustling from the dormitory rooms above him. When he arrived back at Cassie's bedroom, Rhea was rushing out of the double doors. John glowered at her as she passed by and continued to glare as he went through the door and kicked them shut behind him.

"Please let your initiates know," he growled, "that I have a potion that will break them out in boils until they turn twenty-five. And I'm not afraid to use it."

Then he noticed that the Pythia was sitting motionlessly on the edge of the bed, and her eyes were wide as saucers.

"Cassie? What's wrong?" He set her coffee on the nightstand and kneeled down in front of her.

"We have other problems, Pritkin," she said, chewing on her lower lip and staring directly at him.

"Is it bad?" he asked, raising a hand to stroke her thigh.

"It's pretty bad." She hesitated for a long moment before replying.

"I'm going to need you to babysit."


	2. Chapter 2

Cassie was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes when Rhea rushed through the bedroom doors. Usually perfectly composed, the acolyte was in a surprising state of disarray. Her hair was falling out of her ponytail and she wore an enormous, long-sleeved t-shirt over faded flannel pants. It looked like a man's shirt, really.

"Is that Rico's shirt?" Cassie asked suspiciously, looking Rhea up and down. The younger woman visibly recoiled.

" _No!_ " she exclaimed, hands fluttering towards her face. "What—why—of course not! Why would I have Rico's shirt?"

"Mmhmm," Cassie said, unconvinced. There was _something_ going on between her acolyte and the vampire, but she couldn't quite figure it out. _But I will_ , she thought evilly. _Soon_.

"I'm sorry for waking you so early," Rhea apologized, and Cassie snapped back to attention. The younger woman looked anxious—but that wasn't necessarily unusual. Rhea was a bundle of nerves around a steel backbone.

"Yeah, it's the crack of dawn. You woke up _Pritkin_. What's up?"

"Well…" Rhea hesitated. "There's been a development. With the girls."

When Rhea said _the girls_ , she always meant the clairvoyant initiates under her charge. Cassie's eyebrows shot up to her hairline and her heart started beating faster.

"Did someone have a vision? Oh my god. Was it bad? Is there trouble?"

But her acolyte was already shaking her head back and forth.

"No, no, not at all. At least, not yet. You see… overnight, four of the girls started their moon time. Tasha, Charlotte, Veronique, and Antonia."

"Moon time…?" Cassie asked blankly.

"Their… um… flowering?" Rhea offered, uncertainly.

"Rhea. Plain English."

"Their first periods!" the acolyte exclaimed.

Cassie blinked, mouth forming an 'o'. Then she started laughing.

"Oh, Rhea, no. That's nightmarish. Are they alright? I have some Midol if you need it. And some pads. And a hot water bottle. Do you need my bathroom? I can tidy it up and—"

"It's the ceremony I'm worried about!" Rhea blurted out, uncharacteristically impatient. Her face flushed red in anger or mortification. "We don't have _any_ of the supplies, and there's baking to do, and we have to clear the apartment, and _who_ will look after the younger girls today? I can't do it all myself!"

The last sentence almost turned into a wail and Cassie stopped laughing.

"Rhea, I have no idea what you're talking about. Is this a coven thing?"

The acolyte stared at her in mute horror.

"Raised by vampires, remember?"

"What did you _do_?" she asked.

"At first, I thought I was dying," Cassie said with a wry smile. _Even Eugenie forgot that part of growing up_. She hadn't known what to expect. She went running to the vampire, near tears, and Eugenie had responded with alarm and then amusement. "But my governess explained the biology after the fact. Then she sent out a human servant for maxi pads and ice cream. The story got out and Sal made fun of me for months."

"That's awful," Rhea replied, voice small. "When a girl starts her moon time—it's the most sacred ritual we have. We celebrate her, and let her know that she'll never be alone. She becomes a responsible member of the coven."

"But most of the girls aren't from covens—they're from Circle families."

"The Pythian Court _is_ a coven," said Rhea, brow furrowing. "The most important coven of them all. These rites bind us together and make us even stronger. The girls will be _honored_ to have you preside over their ceremony."

Cassie studied Rhea's face. Her expression was fierce, but her eyes were suspiciously shiny. She felt out of her depth, but this ritual obviously meant a lot to the younger woman. _Whatever it is_.

"So… what do we do?" she asked. Rhea held up her hand and started ticking off her fingers.

"We need to find a witch's apothecary. I have the silver bowl, but we need the right herbs and I just don't have a full stock. I think we can get the lumps of silver there, too, but the gold might be another stop. Then we need to go to the grocery store and get supplies for the mooncakes—and like, a sandwich platter—and flowers—"

"Wait a sec," Cassie interjected. "A _sandwich platter_? What does this thing involve?"

"Well, first the girls have to take the ritual bath. Ideally, we should have a mature witch to sponsor each of them, but I don't know _who_. Then they make their talismans, and you have to bless them, since you're the coven leader. At moonrise, we set them outside and dedicate them to—well, to Artemis, actually. And then we eat and tell stories until the sun sets, and then the girls can wear their talismans. And usually they get presents."

Rhea stopped suddenly and bit her lip.

"I don't know what we can give them. I should have been prepared! I never thought this would happen, four at once! We have to think of something!"

Cassie sat down on the edge of the bed and considered hyperventilating.

"Hey. Ok. This is fine," she said. She offered Rhea a bright smile. "Basically it's a birthday party with some extra stuff. How many are we, these days? About 40? I know that the vamps don't technically need to eat, but you know how crabby Fred gets when he's left out. That's like, 10 or 15 pizzas. No prob."

"No, no, no," Rhea shook her head. "They can't be inside. It can only be women, and only ones who have already…um… had their cycle. The men have to leave. And the younger children, too. But they should do something fun, because the little ones are always so sad to miss the party."

"That's all?" Cassie's voice raised an octave. "Anything else I should know?"

"I'm sorry, my lady," Rhea said sheepishly. "That's all. I think."

 _I did not sign up for two dozen daughters_ , Cassie thought, desperately. _What would Agnes do? Would she go to Walmart in her pajamas? Would Gertie order Dominoes? No. They didn't do every single thing themselves. They had a_ staff _. They would…_

"Delegate!" Cassie exclaimed.

Rhea gnawed on her lower lip and gave the Pythia a look that was dangerously close to side-eye.

"Rhea, we have to delegate. We can get this done."

"Delegate to _who_?"

Cassie raised her hand and began to tick off her fingers, mimicking Rhea's own earlier gesture.

"We'll go get the herbs together, since you know what's what. Mooncakes. Whatever those are. Write down the recipe and hand it off to Tami. She's a phenomenal baker. Sponsors. We have four adult witches on loan downstairs, right? Gifts. I'll call Françoise. She's a witch _and_ she has phenomenal taste. Catering. Fred has the number of every delivery joint in the city of Las Vegas. And as for the little girls—Marco knows what they like. We can ask him. Does Vegas have a zoo?"

She looked at Rhea hopefully. Rhea was silent and still for a long moment. Then she began nodding her head.

"It could work. Except… we can't send a vampire out with the younger initiates—not during midday, especially outdoors."

And _that_ was a problem. Maybe the biggest problem. Almost all of the adults in residence were vampires. The kitchen gargoyles would care for them, but they couldn't leave the premises. Casanova would tell her to fuck off if she asked for any other staff. And she needed all of the witches to help with the other preparations.

Cassie began rubbing the bridge of her nose, a stress habit that she had somehow picked up from Pritkin.

 _Pritkin_.

Who could go out in the daylight? Who would guard her smallest initiates with his life? Who had a hard time saying _no_ to her?

"I have an idea about that," she said slowly. _A crazy idea_ , she added, internally. "You go back to the girls and I'll get dressed, okay? I'll come upstairs when I'm ready. We'll have to move fast."

"Yes, my lady!" Rhea said. "Thank you!" She whirled around and sped out of the room, ponytail flying behind her. A few second later, Pritkin walked in, bearing a steaming cup of coffee in each of his hands. He kicked the doors shut behind him and immediately fixed a glower on Cassie.

"Please let your initiates know," he growled, "that I have a potion that will break them out in boils until they turn twenty-five. And I'm not afraid to use it."

She just stared at him, confused by the non sequitur.

"Cassie? What's wrong?" His voice softened with worry. He set her coffee on the nightstand and kneeled down in front of her.

"We have other problems, Pritkin," she told him. _You have other problems, actually_.

"Is it bad?" he asked, raising a hand to stroke her thigh.

"It's pretty bad." She hesitated for a long moment before replying.

"I'm going to need you to babysit."


End file.
